


Preparing for Judgement

by junko



Series: Scatter and Howl [25]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 16:20:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4312041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yamamoto will be coming at any point this morning to arrest Byakuya on charges of fraternization.  Renji and Byakuya scramble to prepare themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Preparing for Judgement

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written much lately about zanpakutou relationships... and if you've been missing that, the end of this is for you.

The sun was little more than a smudge on the horizon when Renji set out for Central 46. Morning smells of baking bread and simmering miso drifted in the cold February air. Most of the businesses he passed were not yet open, windows locked and shuttered. Renji’s only companions were delivery people making rounds, food vendors prepping their shops, and lantern lighters snuffing out flames as the sun began to peek over ochre-colored tiled rooftops. 

Renji was not looking forward to going anywhere near Central 46’s compound. Even without its recent associations with Aizen and death, that place was eerie, being comprised of so much white marble and empty spaces. He supposed the stark architecture was supposed to invoke a sense of austere regality and stern power, but it just seemed fuck-all creepy to him. At least Renji shouldn’t have to go very deep inside the compound. It wasn’t like he needed an audience with Central just to drop off a note. With any luck, he could just hand-off Byakuya’s missive to one of the Kidō Guard at the front gate. 

He should just leap into shunpo and be done with it, but Renji knew the point of this trip was to keep him away from the Division. He should not be there when the Head Captain dropped the sentence on Byakuya’s head. He couldn’t be trusted to control himself. Especially not after last night. After last night, Renji felt a rising urge to protect Byakuya.

Which was stupid, of course. Byakuya could take care of himself far better than Renji ever could. It was true of everyone Renji loved. Rukia had always been stronger, too… until, yeah, until she wasn’t--until her arrest.

Definitely not a good idea to be there to see Byakuya taken away.

Fear was already creeping up on Renji, clawing its way up his spine like a chill. Fear that everything would just randomly change, like it had with Rukia, growing exponentially worse with every passing day. Fear that he’d be just as helpless to stop it. Kyōraku had promised Byakuya a deal, but what were the details? What if it wasn’t some cushie house arrest at all, but hard time? 

Byakuya had told him, not that long ago, that Soi Fon said there was a prison cell in the Maggot’s Nest made specifically for a Kuchiki--for Byakuya, in fact. It seemed outlandish to Renji. Byakuya was the straightest of straight arrows, but, apparently, he’d once gone rogue and taken out a civilian with that special technique of Senbonzakura’s--the one he’d told Ichigo he only showed to those he swore to kill with his own hands. The civilian, Renji suspected, might be the past abuser that made Byakuya so fucked-up about where and when he could be touched. The one Byakuya must have finally been able to put aside to let himself be so open and vulnerable last night.

Regardless how much the bastard might have deserved his fate, Renji could totally see the Onmitsukidō taking note of something like that and putting Byakuya on some kind of a watchlist. 

Of course, Renji could also imagine Auntie Masama making a large donation to the Second Division and commissioning the damn thing. Just because she could, and because it would be one more thing she could threaten her nephew with.

Renji had a very bad feeling that Byakuya was headed there. 

When the sun crested the rooftops, Renji gave up on walking for the expediency of flashstep. 

In a blink, he dropped out into the courtyard in front of the outer walls. The outer walls were white stone, imposing and bleak. Each had a guardpost in the center of each of the four directions. Renji had barely taken more than two steps before he ran smack into an invisible kidō barrier. He bounced back as a voice boomed out, “Lieutenant Abarai of the Sixth Division, state your business with Central 46.”

Rubbing his nose where it had been bent out of shape, Renji grimaced. Apparently, they’d stepped up security since Aizen’s attack. It felt weird to be talking to someone he couldn’t see, but he said, “I’ve come on behalf of Sixth Division Captain Byakuya Kuchiki. I’ve got a letter he wants held securely by Central, regarding Kuchiki clan business.”

Silence.

Should he say more? Maybe try to explain things better?

Renji shielded his eyes from the sun with his hand to try to see up into the tower. “Oi, you hear me or what?” Renji shouted. Taking the letter from inside his shitagi, he waved it in the air. “I’m here on Kuchiki clan business!”

The disembodied voice said, “You may approach the gate. A representative will meet you.”

The air seemed to flicker and Renji felt a shifting pulse of reiatsu. He took that as a sign that the barrier had dropped. After a few cautious steps forward, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on edge as the barrier popped back into place behind him. 

_A little paranoid post-Aizen, eh?_ Even though the idea of being trapped inside this bubble gave him the heebie-jeebies, Renji could hardly blame them, not really.

Before he could even get to the door of the tower, a woman emerged. She was dressed all in white in a flowing kimono that had an unfortunate resemblance to the penitent garb they’d made Rukia wear after her arrest, complete with a collar around her neck. Only instead of being red, this collar was white. Her black hair was long and left unbound; her face high cheek-boned and pale. 

If they weren’t already in the Land of the Dead, Renji would imagine her a ghost.

They met halfway across the courtyard. Standing in front of her, Renji loomed. She was taller than Rukia, but not by a lot. When she tilted her head to look up at him, Renji noticed thick dark eyelashes, surrounding sea green eyes and full, pale lips. He might have been lulled by her beauty, but her reiatsu crackled around her like lightning, smelling of scorched air and ozone. “What is the Kuchiki clan business with Central?” she demanded. “Why does the clan send a military representative?”

Renji had no idea what to say to that. So, he held out the letter and shrugged. “Ma’am, I just go where my captain tells me to.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” she said with a small, indulgent smile for him. She took the letter and scanned its contents. “I see,” she said, folding it in half to disappear inside her sleeve, “The Kuchiki is concerned there may be opposition to his appointed regent. You may assure your master that Central will not allow civilian occupation of Gotei territory. It is, however, the acting-captain’s decision whether or not the Sixth Division will repel any attacks on Kuchiki private properties.”

Pansy-ass non-support, as expected, Renji thought ruefully.

“Congratulations on your temporary appointment, Acting-Captain Abarai.”

Those words gave Renji a start. He started to stammer a ‘thank you,’ but the woman was already turning away from him. Over her shoulder she gave him a stunning smile and said, “You don’t have the excuse of ‘just following captain’s orders,’ anymore, Acting-Captain. Good luck with that.”

Why did that little snarky comment stab him in the chest like ice?

#

Byakuya knocked politely at the door to the heir’s bed chambers. “Shinobu?”

An exhausted mewl came from the other side and was followed by, “What time is it?” And then a more coherent and concerned, “Byakuya-sama? Is that you?”

“I need to speak with you regarding a matter of some urgency,” Byakuya said to the closed door. The door led to the room that had once been his own, one he found he could not push his way into, no matter how anxious he was to talk to the boy. Particularly as the courtesy had been denied him so… forcefully. Byakuya cleared his throat and asked, “May I come in?”

“Um….hang on.” 

Byakuya listened to the sounds of rustling and muttering. Was the boy dressing or frantically attempting to clean up a messy room? It was no more than a moment before the door slid open. Shinobu’s hair was an uncombed riot of brown curls. He wiped sleep from his eyes and gestured for Byakuya to enter. Blinking, he stared wide-eyed as Byakuya made his way into the room. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without the kenseikan, my lord. You look… nice?”

Less regal, no doubt. More approachable.Younger, if Renji were to be believed. 

The room looked hastily tidied. Byakuya could see a stray bit of laundry poking out from underneath the futon mattress. Otherwise, the room was much the way it had been when Byakuya had occupied it. The same koans hung on the walls. Many of the same favorite childhood books occupied the same shelves. Byakuya wondered if Shinobu had found the loose floorboard yet and what he would make of the childhood treasures hidden there. 

“It is, in fact, the kenseikan that brings me here,” Byakuya said. He opened his hand to show them to the heir. Byakuya had taken them off on the way here, the silver chains looped around his fingers. He’d been clutching them so tightly their ridges left impressions in his palms and fingers. “Will you allow me to put them on you?”

Shinobu’s mouth opened and hung there, gawping, for several moments. “I… don’t understand. The investiture isn’t for months yet.”

“Indeed,” Byakuya nodded. “But, I’m to be arrested shortly. I would not have them stripped from me. I can not allow it.”

It was the reason, also, that Byakuya had not bothered to dress in uniform. They would still make him remove his clothes, no doubt in some hideously demeaning way, but it was better not to see the haori taken. Symbol and pride were often intertwined.

“Arrested?” Shinobu choked. “Arrested for what? By whom?”

“The Gotei. For fraternization,” Byakuya said calmly. He gestured at a small dressing table, indicating the boy should sit while they talked. Though it took him a moment to understand, the boy complied. His eyes watched Byakuya the whole time, silently begging for more. With a sigh, Byakuya acquiesced and gave him the full story. “I admitted to fraternization in front of the Commander of the Military Police. I thought to protect Renji from a charge of insubordination, but it would have been wiser to say nothing. Indeed, it would have been far wiser yet not to have started the argument with Renji at all.”

Shinobu sat seiza in front of the small table, still watching Byakuya with wide, frightened eyes. Byakuya knelt behind him, trying to fathom how to contain the curls within the kenseikan. He decided to start with a comb. He was not particularly good at this sort of thing, but he had combed Hisana’s hair for her often enough when she was ill. Besides, the kenseikan just had to stay in place long enough for Shinobu to be seen in them.

As Byakuya combed, Shinobu asked, “Am I understanding you correctly? You’re being arrested for admitting to being Renji’s lover, not… because of it?”

“Hopefully,” Byakuya said. “Your captain-uncle is using his prodigious charm to convince the Head Captain that my only sin is to admitting out loud to what many do behind closed doors. It’s no guarantee, of course. Yamamoto could chose to prosecute me to the full extent of the law. In which case, it is even more vital you appear wearing the kenseikan as I may be slated for execution.”

Shinobu covered his mouth. “Oh, don’t say that, Byakuya-sama! Don’t let the gods hear you, in case they think you wish that fate.” Then he made a complex gesture with his free hand, no doubt a ward against bad luck. A gesture, however, not learned at noble court.

Byakuya considered correcting him, but decided against it. Perhaps such rustic mannerisms would gain Shinobu favors Byakuya never could. 

Hair as under control as it would be, Byakuya began to slide the kenseikan into place. As he did, he explained. “The kenseikan may cut into your skin, at first. They are heavy and unyielding and… sense the change. In time, however, they will transform. The parts of the kenseikan that are forged from Hollow bones are still alive. Your reiatsu will mould them into a new design. Though the ones I wore had been passed on from generation to generation, no two clan heads ever wore the same configuration. That kenseikan was shattered by the ryoka, by Ichigo Kurosaki. Pieces of it were re-forged into these, but, like you, they represent a new generation, and, perhaps, if you so chose, a new direction for the Kuchiki clan.” 

The corkscrews of Shinobu’s hair spun out of the kenseikan awkwardly. What had looked good on Byakuya seemed… foolish on the heir. No matter, they would begin to shift in a month’s time to something more suitable to his features. Byakuya had shocked the clan when the kenseikan had moved into their current shape in days, his reiatsu was so strong.

Shinobu’s expression grew serious with Byakuya’s words. “I will do my best. I will make you proud, Kuchiki-sama.”

Byakuya shook his head. “No, Shinobu Kuchiki. Think not of the path I walked, but your own. You must follow your own heart. The only person you must make proud is yourself.”

Shinobu nodded gravely. “Did your grandfather say this to you also?”

“He did not. The kenseikan was taken from his corpse. The only words of wisdom he had for me at my investiture was, ‘Don’t fidget so damn much.’”

Shinobu laughed. “Equally good advice, if less profound.”

“Yes, in a way,” Byakuya agreed. The chains were a mess inside Shinobu’s curls, but Byakuya was able to secure them. He sat back, frowning. They looked terrible. The style didn’t suit his hair in the least, the curls resisting direction stubbornly. Byakuya decided to take that as a good omen, rather than bad. As Renji might say, ‘a feature, not a bug.’ Perhaps Shinobu’s leadership would be resilient and flexible, too. 

Byakuya realized Shinobu was waiting for something more, to hear something positive about Ginrei. Byakuya struggled to think for a moment, but settled on: “Your great-grandfather was a practical man, if nothing else. He did teach me the importance of keeping up appearances. A lesson you should take to heart in front of our aunt Masama. Try to restrain from making evil eye gestures in front of her, if you can help it. Unless, of course, you think them strong enough to repel her person.”

“I’ve tried,” Shinobu said with a smile and a shake of his head. “She’s impervious to folk magic.”

“A shame,” Byakuya agreed. He sat with his hands on his knees, trying to think of all the things he should try to prepare Shinobu for. He shook his head. There was too much. The best he could do was impart the most critical. “Rukia will be your appointed regent,” Byakuya said, standing back up. “Aunt Masama will object. Try to remember you have the power of my intention. She may outmaneuver both of you, but your voice still matters. You are the Kuchiki heir. Use it to whatever advantage you can muster. Don’t be afraid to tell her no. Refuse her. How you lead now may determine your future.”

“No pressure…” Shinobu said with a little wan smile.

Byakuya made his way to the door. “Being clan head is nothing but burdensome pressure. I’m sorry to have laid it on your shoulders with so little preparation. At least, I pray that you will not also be burdened with grief.”

“You have to stop talking about dying, Byakuya-sama. Please.”

The boy sounded on the verge of tears, so Byakuya said, “I have asked the house steward to dress you in full regalia. I want you at my side when they take me away, so it is seen that I have not left the clan without a leader. Eat something, if you can.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“I have one last errand to attend to. It’s... delicate, since I’m meant to be under house arrest. But I can’t leave Senbonzakura under lock and key at the Ninth. If the Head Captain or his representatives show up, you have to stall them.”

“Oh.” Shinobu said, the twinkle in his eye returning for the first time since Byakuya placed the kenseikan on his head. “Oh, now that I can do. No problem.”

#

Despite setting himself an intentionally meandering pace, Renji still ended up at the Thirteenth when the doors were still barred for the evening. The gate guard told him he had less than an hour’s wait, so he opted for a meander down the row of vendors along the wall in search of what Urahara called “second breakfast “ 

Having found a crumpled up ken note wedged in the pocket of his hakama, Renji treated himself to a bowl of hot chocolate and something from a Human World novelty shop called a ‘power bar.’ He parked his butt on a tavern’s stoop situated almost directly across from the Thirteenth’s main gate. 

The cold of the stone steps seeped through the silks quickly, but the doorway afforded decent shelter from the bitter wind. Renji gulped the chewy, sweet bar down in about three bites. The chocolate didn’t last much longer, so he tilted his head back against the doorframe and closed his eyes.

He woke up to the sound of Rukia’s laughter. “Only an Inuzuri mutt like you could sleep outside in this weather!” She banged him playfully on the head, “It’s February, Renji! Besides, I can’t believe you’re the vagrant I have to come and deal with.”

Blocking her next punch, he held on to her arm to help himself upright. “You’re just the person I came to see.” From his kosode, he pulled out Byakuya’s letter. Seeing the official seal, Rukia’s smile faded and her face grew pale. “It’s bad,” he said, “But not as bad as you’re thinking. Your brother and I had some problems last night and the short of it is, he’s going to be arrested this morning for admitting to fraternization.”

Rukia stared at the unopened letter in her hand and then back at Renji. “What!?” She smacked him in the arm again “Why are you standing here, you big galoot? Why aren’t you stopping them?”

“Stopping them? Rukia, this is Byakuya’s choice!”

“Nii-sama is agreeing to be arrested? Bullshit!!”

“Oi, oi, ‘bullshit,’ is that how the acting-Kuchiki-regent-thingie should talk?” Renji tried to make it into a kind of teasing joke, but the color drained from Rukia’s heart-shaped face. Her bottom lip trembled and her eyes went wide. 

“You’re serious,” she said, as if suddenly really, truly getting it. She looked down at the letter clutched in her hand. Tearing the letter open so hard that the wax seal shattered like the petals of Senbonzakura, Rukia scanned the words. Then her finger jabbed the paper as if stabbing it, she said, “This is serious!”

Renji nodded. 

Closing her eyes, she let out a sigh. It surprised Renji how much she looked like Byakuya at that moment, but then she said, “The family is going to shit bricks.” She opened her eyes, her expression grave and a little chagrined. “Two Kuchiki arrests in one year. Not that they count me, not really, but… damn.”

Renji frowned. “Of course they count you.”

“Yeah,” she smiled, “when it counts against us.”

Renji had to chuckle darkly. His breath was puffs of white in the cold air. “Yeah, exactly.”

She smiled up at him wanly. Then she glanced back down at the letter and frowned. “You need to explain it to me, though, Renji. I don’t get it. How come nii-sama is letting this happen?”

Tugging his ear, Renji said, “Well, okay, so it kind of started with a fight, a public fight, maybe a little bit of a drunken fight, in the street…” 

Ten minutes later he’d told her the whole, sordid story. She’d coaxed him out from the doorway to walk along the wall where the vendors were now fully open for breakfast business. He wasn’t really hungry after having had a full breakfast with Byakuya and his recent snack, but Renji could always appreciate a roasted satsuma imo on a cold, wintery day. 

He shoveled the last of the yam into his mouth as he finished, “...and he figured maybe I shouldn’t be there when they come, you know, because… well, because I might do something stupid like try and stop them. Anyways, apparently the letter I dropped off at Central has some indication that he’s named me Acting Captain. Either that, or that spooky lady is some kind of telepathic, uber ninja.”

Rukia snorted. “Not likely. Captain Abarai, huh? Who would have thought?”

“Certainly not me,” Renji said, thinking about the punishment tattoos hidden under his uniform and all the years spent stealing water and food in Inuzuri. “And it’s Acting-Captain.”

Rukia quirked her eyebrow and tilted her head up at him curiously. “Isn’t this what you’ve been training so hard for?”

“Nah,” Renji laughed. “I was training to beat him, not take his job. And I ain’t done neither yet, so far as I’m concerned.”

Rukia glanced anxiously in the direction of the Sixth.

“Oi, you should go,” he told her. “Captain only wanted me to stay away. I bet he’d like seeing you there.”

He’d hardly even finished suggesting it before she was gone, a blur of air where she’d once been. 

“Yeah, you go,” Renji said, even though he knew he was talking to himself. “I maybe ought to chat with Urahara again, anyway.”

#

Byakuya spent ten minutes convincing the warden of the Ninth Division’s guard house that he was, in fact, Senbonzakura’s rightful wielder. Apparently, without the haori and kenseikan, he was nearly unrecognizable. A captain-level wave of reiatsu to back up his claim, however, seemed to do the trick.

Just seeing this person touching Senbonzakura at all made Byakuya more certain on his plan. Even though the warden wore gloves and mostly lifted the zanpakutō using the pillow they’d placed it on, Byakuya felt a rush of relief when his hands closed around the hilt and Senbonzakura was away from this stranger. 

Senbonzakura began singing a song of homecoming instantly. Normally, Byakuya would never consider speaking to the blade, but he found himself speaking out loud as he left the Ninth Division’s guardhouse, “We will be separated again, but I will not let them take you.” 

In fact, Byakuya only waited until he was out of the main gate and on the main broadway. The neighborhood around the Ninth had only just begun to wake up. A few tradespersons were out sweeping steps and unlocking shutters, but the wide street was otherwise deserted of traffic. Byakuya unsheathed Senbonzakura and held the zanpakutō out at his side and, with a subdued “Senbonzakura Kageyoshi’ he let go of the hilt. The blade broke and scattered like cherry blossoms in the wind. He held in reserve the rest of the bankai energy.

Senbonzakura hesitated, hanging in the air, at the ready for some command. Byakuya could feel the zanpakutō’s confusion. _Where is the enemy?_

‘Scatter,” Byakuya whispered to Senbonzakura. 

Never in their lives together had Byakuya ever issued a command quite like this one. He meant ‘go where you will’ and it was clear the zanpakutō found such independence…. baffling. So, Byakuya gave the blades a little mental push and repeated, “Scatter.” 

In his mind, he gave Senbonzakura the idea that they could, if they wished, reform in the sacred, hidden garden at the estate and rest there, but… they could also, should they desire, run free… ride the wind, explore the world. Byakuya trusted they would return to him when he needed them, and no one would expect that they were in full release already. Not many other bankai could do this… truly scatter.

Perhaps it wouldn’t work. They had never tried anything quite like this before. That was why, if they had to, Byakuya hoped they would simply collapse back into their sealed state and rest in their garden at the estate.

He always had to let go, to drop his guard, literally, in order for Senbonzakura to fight for him. Now he was asking for them to… completely let go, to be… free, like true petals in the breeze.

Finally, the blade seemed to understand what to do. With an explosive rush, they burst into the air and were gone.

Byakuya touched his cheek. In its excitement, one of the blades had grazed his cheekbone, leaving behind a tiny, shallow scratch.

Normally, he would have been angry. Instead, it felt like a kiss goodbye and Byakuya was grateful that the zanpakutō had tasted his blood, their bond.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks as usual to my amazing beta reader, typo-spotter, and friend Josey (cestus).


End file.
